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Chef Clyde: Cioppino

A bowl of cioppino made by Coronado's authentic Neapolitan Pizzeria & Italian Ristorante, Buona Forchetta.

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Gold Rush of 1849 made San Francisco and the Pacific Northwest popular destinations. Not all “forty-niners” were hunting for gold; some were attracted to San Francisco’s newfound prosperity. The Italians who fished off Meiggs Wharf were one such group. They would return from sea with their fish holds full of what they had caught that day. The sights of home, just off the starboard bow, had changed for these fishermen. The ancient buildings of Genoa were no longer in view. Their new home provided a much more modern skyline that could be seen poking through the fog. All hands were on deck as the fisherman coiled ropes and hung nets — it was always a long day at sea and the crew was hungry.

A familiar smell enveloped the men as steam billowed from a large pot fastened to the deck — a simple fish stew was taking shape. Like these fishermen who lived so far from home, the stew they cooked for lunch had adapted to its new environment. Some elements had changed, but these Italian immigrants still made a living on the water. And the catch of the day still populated the stew they ate for their meal. It didn’t take long for the traditional stew to become what we know now as cioppino.

There are two possible origins for the word cioppino. It may be derived from the Ligurian dialect “ciuppin” which means chopped, torn to pieces. Cioppino could also come from the Genovese dialect “ciupar,” meaning to dip or to drench, most likely referring to the bread served with the stew. Regardless of origin, it didn’t take long for talk of this delicious stew to spread. It quickly made its way from deck and dock to the homes and restaurants of the Italian North Beach neighborhood, destined to become an iconic dish for the city.

Heaven, by a simplified definition, is a condition or place of great happiness, delight, or pleasure. Cioppino is that for me, a bowl full of all my favorite things usually enjoyed with all my favorite people. The love affair I have with cioppino is inseparable from my love affair with San Francisco. Meigg's Wharf from Russian Hill in The destination, when I San Francisco, California. arrive in the city is always the same: North Beach for a bowl of cioppino. I was taught in life the journey is as important as the destination, so there’s no filler to my day in San Francisco. First stop in the city is Swan Oyster Depot, on Polk Street (they open early). Oysters on the half shell and a cold Anchor Steam beer is the breakfast of champions. Next stop, House of Nanking on Kearny Street, for lunch

and some of the best Chinese food in the city. After lunch there’s time to explore and see the sights like the famous City Lights Book Store on Columbus Avenue. The last stop before dinner is the Top of the Mark for a dirty martini and a million-dollar view of the sun setting over the Golden Gate Bridge, with unobstructed views of Alcatraz and the Bay. The journey is finished, and destination North Beach cioppino here I come. My favorite spot was always Rose Pistola (a North Beach classic), but it closed in 2017 after 21 years. I am on the hunt for a new go-to spot. The problem is my favorite bowl of cioppino is almost always the one I’m currently eating. I may stay single for a while, not commit. Playing the field has turned up some amazing bowls of cioppino.

Cioppino isn’t a set recipe so every bowl is different. The base of this versatile soup consists of tomatoes, seafood stock, aromatics, white wine, and then whatever seafood is available at the time. This allows for an amazing amount of variety and excitement. Having a familiar bowl of this stew, even at your favorite place, can be different from one visit to the next. The only thing that never changes is it’s always delicious.

I don’t get to San Francisco as often as I would like, so I create my own slice of heaven at home for friends and family every year on my birthday. My most recent cioppino was magical. I pulled out all the stops. I always start with my friend, and fellow chef, Lisa’s family recipe. Lisa’s great Aunt Grace got the recipe from her dear friend who lived in the Italian neighborhood of North Beach in the early 60s. Lisa’s family has been making cioppino using this recipe ever since. I used their treasured recipe the first time I made cioppino for my family. Since then, I’ve made their recipe my own, adding and changing things here and there. After all, cioppino is what I like to call a living recipe. It changes depending on where it’s made and with the seasons, but the spirit is always the same.

There are two ingredients, besides the fish, which are game-changers for this dish: the tomatoes and the stock. The tomatoes used for cioppino are typically canned, San Marzano tomatoes from Italy because they’re simply the best. I’ve given up on the flavorless hard tomatoes in the grocery store, even the heirloom organic ones are often too soft and lack flavor. Fortunately, this season produced an abundance of fresh seasonal tomatoes. Our friends in town had a bumper crop and they gave us baskets full—which we processed and canned for our cioppino.

Seafood stock is tricky. Most people cooking cioppino at home use clam juice, as it’s readily available for purchase in the grocery store. Because I love making cioppino when I have the opportunity, I’ll make a seafood stock from shrimp or lobster shells then freeze it until it’s time to Clyde Van Arsdall, IV. make the stew. I made lobster rolls for my

son’s birthday, so I used the shells to make stock and froze it. These two handmade items are packed with flavor; they make the difference between good and great.

Fresh seafood is a given, both in San Francisco and in San Diego, so always choose what looks the best and is in season. The time of year you choose to make cioppino will often determine the flavor, as various items will change depending on availability. Aromatics are another variable. My friend Lisa’s recipe calls for green onions and bell peppers, but instead, this last time around, I used a yellow onion and fresh fennel. I love fennel, and I’ve never been a big fan of green bell peppers, so I liked the results. No matter how much I change Aunt Gracie’s recipe, the spirit of the dish is always the same. Cioppino connects our two families to San Francisco. Gathering around a table with loved ones to share this beloved dish is a communion of sorts, a time to celebrate the past and toast to the future. I hope cioppino does the same for your friends and family. Felice di mangarie. (Happy eating.)

• Clyde Van Arsdall IV is an executive chef and lives in Coronado with his children.

• Garage Buona Forchetta is located at 1000 C Avenue in Coronado, or find them online at buonaforchettasd.com.

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